


baby, i'm drowning here

by skj



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, LMAO, Pregnancy, charles is a lil ooc, i needed him to keep a secret, if you thought my coral palms fic was angsty, jake is in prison longer than 8 weeks, just wait, semi-descriptive depictions of labor and birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 05:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18046631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skj/pseuds/skj
Summary: But here Amy stood, in a cold, empty apartment, alone and pregnant with no one to turn to. Her boyfriend was gone and oblivious, and the squad—well, the squad would never look at her the same again. She could only imagine. Pity, resentment, and shallow condolences were guaranteed. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see through the tears, and she felt like the world might be ending, so she stopped fighting, slid down the wall, and just cried.oramy's pregnant while jake is in prison and can’t tell him.





	baby, i'm drowning here

**Author's Note:**

> god someone just tell me to shut the hell up with these weird-ass angsty preg fics
> 
> i can't think of anything else right now. so this is what you get. super angsty. you've been warned.
> 
> damn this doc got AWAY from me. thought this would land squarely at 800 but we’re sitting comfortably at 5.5k
> 
> cw: lots of angst and despair, and a kinda sorta graphic description of birth.
> 
> ALSO for this story jake is in prison longer than in canon

“Guilty. On all charges.”

Amy’s heart stopped. There was no way this was happening. No, no, no, no. Her breathing shallowed and her eyes welled with tears. No, no, no, no. Jake couldn’t be leaving. Not now. She couldn’t believe he was being taken from her. Not now. Not Jake. She couldn’t form a coherent thought. They caught a glance of each other from across the room for a split second as he was being taken away. His eyes were empty, frozen in time. Hers were wet with unshed tears and shining with panic. The look shared between them conveyed a sense of utter pain and unwavering love.

I’ll wait for you, her eyes said with a single, sad look.

The positive pregnancy test weighed heavy in her purse.

-

Getting home from the trial, Terry drove Amy, who sat in the passenger seat staring ahead of her, her eyes completely emotionless and still. Terry tried engaging her a few times, but all his attempts were futile. He left her at her apartment after making sure she was okay, where she marked off the 10-week mark of her super-secret pregnancy journal covertly hidden in her nightstand. No need to hide it anymore, though.

God. She thought that they would win. She thought that they would come home together today laughing about how crazy that trial was, how close he was to getting sent to jail (but somehow without completely realizing actually how close he was to losing his whole world). She would give him a sweet kiss, and slip the test into his hands and watch as his face grew with realization and excitement. They would start their family together. Together.

But here Amy stood, in a cold, empty apartment, alone and pregnant with no one to turn to. She wouldn't dream of getting rid of it; it was a peice of him she needed, she wanted. Her boyfriend was gone and oblivious, and the squad—well, the squad would never look at her the same again. She could only imagine. Pity, resentment, and shallow condolences were guaranteed. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see through the tears, and she felt like the world might be ending, so she stopped fighting, slid down the wall, and just cried.

-

Amy took a week off work, as expected. The 9-9 was in low spirits for weeks before they finally were able to pick themselves up and get to work busting Hawkins (and, if you ask, their actual police work). Amy, however, could not pick herself up. She slipped back into a dark place, and Holt shackled her to desk duty.

At home, Amy cycled between excessively cleaning everything within an inch of its life or letting trash and dirty clothes pile up in different spots all over the apartment. She frequently sat in front of a framed picture of her and Jake taken on the night of the last heist—her with a begrudged smile after losing and Jake with a big toothy grin staring straight at Amy.

("What is this look on your face?" she laughed.

"I just saw the most beautiful woman I've ever clapped eyes on smiling. I think I'm justified in a little adoring smile,” Jake had explained.

"Adoring smile? You look like you're obsessed with me!"

He pulled her into him and pressed his lips against hers. "With a girl like you, would that be so wrong?" he smiled. Dork).

They were so happy. In that picture, there was only Jake and Amy. It was them against the world. Little did they know, in a few short months, it would prove true; it _was_ them against the world.

The world won.

Whenever she felt herself spiral out of control, she let her thoughts take over. She listed all related facts in her head, and it helped calm her.

Amy was pregnant. Her boyfriend was incarcerated. He would very likely not be present for the birth. He did not know she was pregnant, nor would he find out while he was in prison. The only person who knew was Amy. She was physically healthy. She would soon have enough money coming in as a Sergeant to raise a child and take care of herself. She was safe on desk duty. Jake wasn't here. Jake wasn't here. Focus. There was food in the fridge and gas in her car. She was okay. That's what she told herself, at least. She was okay.

Amy had gotten good at hiding the fact she was pregnant. She didn't get morning sickness (It ran in the family; that was the only way Camila was able to have 8 children), so there was no need to worry about throwing up at work. All the other symptoms she hid really well, and the only concern was her growing bump. She was able to wear flowy shirts and get away with it, and since she was sitting at her desk all day, there was really no reason for her to expose her stomach.

But it was hard. God, it was hard. She woke up alone, she spent her day alone, and she went to sleep alone. Even when she was surrounded by people, she felt so utterly and completely alone.

So she threw herself in the case. Every spare waking minute she had was spent on the Hawkins case. She was going to bring Jake home to meet his kid if it was the last goddamn thing she did. Her child would not be fifteen when they met their father, not if she could help it.

The bi-weekly visits with Jake helped. She went down to the Jericho prison every two weeks as soon as he was sentenced and saw the love of her life. The father of her child. She tried to keep the latter out of her head, because there was nothing he could do. He would beat himself up, he would go crazy if he found out Amy was pregnant. She knew he would blame himself, and that was the last thing Amy wanted. She wanted to spare him any and all pain she could, and, somehow, that meant causing some.

There was a disconnect between them. Both of them could feel it. There was something wrong, something missing. Every time she came down, she was flightier, scanning her eyes down and nervously adjusting her shirt. There was a secret. Eventually, the visits became harder for Amy than not seeing him. This wasn't Jake. The Jake Peralta she knew was left in Brooklyn in that court room. For Jake, a reminder of the life he left behind, the life he may never have again.

There was a screen between them. Only happy things were allowed to be discussed. Amy didn't ask about the obviously broken ribs he constantly sported, and Jake didn't ask about Amy's refusal to hug him anymore. She blamed it on the guards, but he knew better.

There was a space between them. Amy asked the guards to tell Jake that his touching privileges had been revoked so that she wouldn't have to come up with an excuse to not hug him. After giving Amy a quick up-and-down (prison guards had to see through everything), the officer nodded and smiled sadly. Jake almost threw a fit when the guard first said it. ("She must have the wrong guy, Ames. I still have touching time. Tell me they’re wrong!”)

At 14 weeks, Amy's clothes became snug. When Holt asked her aside if she had put on weight since Peralta had gotten locked up, she replied nervously and loudly that she had taken to binge-eating to cope with the loss. Captain Hoolt nodded understandably, but Amy had the feeling he had not let it go yet.

At 16 weeks, she had to ditch the pantsuits and wear heavy coats indoors all day. She was the girl who brought a blanket to the Mets game, so it was not looked at twice. 

At 18 weeks, it became absolutely impossible to hide it anymore. She called everyone into the briefing room after the morning briefing and sat them down before drawing the blinds.

"Amy, what's this about? Terry's got a lot of open cases," the Sarge piped in.

Amy smiled meekly.

“I have news, everyone,” she croaked. She was speaking so little, her voice had gotten rusty. 

Tears in her eyes, her breathing started speeding up. She wouldn’t cry. Not right now. Not here. Someone’s hands met her shoulders, and a voice whispered soothing tones into her ear, easily grounding her. Terry. He was always good at comforting people.

When the room came back into focus, she saw the people that cared most about her in front of her. Her found family. They were here for her no matter what. Deep breath.

“I’m—“ Deep breath. “I’m pregnant. 18 weeks.”

The room, despite already having been silent, hushed further. Amy heard a soft “Oh, shit,” come from Gina, and Boyle couldn’t even be happy for her. Terry immediately pulled her in his strong embrace and just held her as she let the tears leak out of her eyes. Captain Holt joined them, softly rubbing Amy’s back as she cried. Tragedy truly made strange bedfellows.

Captain Holt made a warbled announcement about renewed efforts on the Hawkins case, which only half registered with Amy. 

Numb, she was whisked into the Captain’s office and sat in the chair by his desk. 

Faintly, she heard Holt speaking to her. She looked up, and saw him looking expectantly at her. 

“What? Sorry,” she hurriedly whispered.

“I said,” he leaned forward and his eyes met hers, “It is probably best if you stop visiting Jake. Seeing you in your condition would only make prison harder. For both of your sakes, I think it would be better if this was kept a secret. I can call, make up a story of how you, say, badly broke your leg while chasing a perp and cannot go down to South Carolina anymore. Boyle will keep going. Jake will be out by the time the baby is born, I swear to you, Amy. I swear.”

Not see him anymore. Amy knew it was leading up to this, God, but that didn’t make it any easier. The only thing keeping her going through the day was the thought that soon, Jake would be home in her arms. Seeing him was hard, sure, but it gave her hope. Hope that they would soon be together again.

She nodded numbly but stated she would call and accepted Holt’s request to take the next few days off. 

Gina stopped her on her way out and said firmly, “When’s your next appointment?”

Any recognized it for what it was. It was not a request. She softly answered and Gina told Amy to expect her to be there.

Any went home that day and, for the first time in weeks, didn’t immediately melt into a puddle of tears. She had forgotten through all this, she supposed, that she had an unwavering support system behind her. She would be okay. Now she knew it. And come hell or high water, she would bring Jake home.

-

“Peralta! Phone call from your girlfriend!”

Jake looked toward the phone at the end of the hallway. His face lit up considerably, and he walked swiftly to the phone.

“Babe?” he said, visibly giddy.

“Jake,” said Amy’s warm voice, slightly defeated. There was a substantial pause, then he heard a soft sob from her side, and immediately asked what was wrong.

“It’s just—I broke my leg while chasing a perp, and I can’t come visit anymore. I’m so sorry, Jake. It’s gonna take so long to heal, like two or three months, but we’ll have you out by then,” he heard her struggling to keep sobs from breaking free. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

Jake was numb. His only motivation to get through the days was gone. Every single day left a hole in him bigger than the last, but seeing Amy left him happy, however strained the meetings were. But he wouldn’t let Amy think that. He needed to protect her. “Ames, don’t worry about it. It’s only two months, and then I’ll go back to seeing you for one hour every two weeks. I can wait. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. Are you okay? You oughta be more careful, babe.”

“I know. Yes, I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad, but the doctor said I shouldn’t travel until it’s healed.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Ames.”

 _You have 30 seconds_ , chimed the robotic voice in the phone.

“Okay, well, Jake, I love you. I love you so goddamn much. I’ll be right here when you get out. I promise.”

A pause. Both were crying.

“Amy, I love you. I love you so, so much. And, seriously. I will be okay.”

The line clicked off.

-

The weeks passed, and the view became bleaker. They were no closer to getting Hawkins than they were six months ago. Though the squad worked tirelessly, the Lieutenant seemed to slip from their fingers every time.

Amy was just about ready to pop. At thirty-six weeks, she was just waiting. Waiting for Jake to come home, waiting to go into labor, waiting for the pain to end. She had slowly gotten better, going from constant nights of sobbing into her pillow and wishing for the world to end to a subtle, ever-present sadness. She was able to go out again, leave the house, and the apartment was a normal cleanliness.

Although she was better, she was not okay. There were still nights when she’d call Jake’s cell phone and listen to him speak about his days in the mob and cry herself to sleep. She put Jake’s favorite hoodie on her pregnancy pillow and smelled it until it didn’t smell like him any longer. She would sniff cigarettes, hoping the urge would lessen, and stare lovingly at her belly, imagining a tiny Jake in there, already watching Die Hard.

Amy felt like the pregnancy made it simultaneously easier and harder to cope with Jake being gone. She had a piece of him constantly with her, evidence of his undying love for her attached to her body. But he didn’t know. And he couldn’t know. And that was what killed her.

Gina, Jake’s oldest friend (and Rosa’s girlfriend? After Rosa broke up with Pimento during their failed wedding, everyone suspected so) took it hard, too. They took refuge in one another, however unlikely the pair. 

Gina went with Amy to all the ultrasounds, helped her around when her tummy became too much to bear for too long, and answered her calls in the middle of the night. She would pick up the phone and hear sniffles on the other side, and she would speak reassurances to Amy until they both fell asleep on the line. 

Jake somehow got a phone. He called her for the first time when she was at an ultrasound with Gina. The doctor poured the gel onto her swollen stomach and positioned the wand on it. Suddenly, her phone started buzzing off the table. She hastily answered it, hoping it might be work. She hated her appointments. 

“Detective Santiago.”

“Ames. Oh my god. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Jake, oh my god, how are you calling me? It’s so good to hear you.” Tears started welling in her eyes. 

“Holy shit, Jake is calling?” Amy heard distantly from Gina. She lowered the phone and put it on speaker. 

“Are you busy? I just wanted to talk. I have some free time on my hands.”

The doctor started talking very loudly, too. “Do you want to know the sex of the baby? You’re at 36 weeks, you know, it’s way past being able to find out.”

Shit.

“Ames, what was that?”

Shit.

“Oh, just watching a TV show, you know.”

Shit.

“That sounded exactly like your gyno.”

Shit.

Loud, nervous laughter. “I know, right?”

“Weird,” Jake laughed. He seemed to have bought it. 

“Listen, babe, work actually just called and I’m on my way in right now. Can you call me later tonight? I promise I will make time.”

A sigh. “Sure, Ames. I’ll call after lights out. I love you.”

“I love you, Jake. So much.”

The line went dead. 

Any immediately burst into tears, and there was Gina, comforting her. The doctor stood awkwardly off to the side. After a solid few minutes, Amy was able to compose herself and Gina wiped away the few tears she also had.

“Husband in the military? He mentioned lights out,” the doctor said nervously, obviously fearing the alternative.

Amy straightened. “Actually, no. Prison. Framed for a string of bank robberies while trying to take down a dirty task force from the inside.”

It was like a door had clicked open in her. That was the first time she had been able to get through that proudly. Without crying. Her boyfriend was a hero.

The doctor hesitated. “And he doesn’t know? It’s his?”

Amy nodded. “I couldn’t do that to him. He might not meet his kid until it’s 15.”

“She,” the doctor corrected. “It’s a girl.”

Amy sat there, stunned. She was having a baby girl. Jake’s baby girl. She didn’t want to know, she supposed because it made it that much more real. But now that she did, she was ridiculously relieved. Gina gripped her arms protectively. 

“Baby girl Peraltiago. How cute,” Gina smiled fondly. “Not as cute as my Iggy, though,” she added smugly. 

Any chuckled, snapped out of her reverie. “Of course not, Gina.”

Any left that day with a newfound determination of catching Hawkins. Jake would be home for the birth of her baby if it was the last goddamn thing she did.

-

The hardest thing that happened to her in that lonely time was running into Karen at the store.

They kept in touch over the phone, Amy calling Karen with updates as to where they were on the case, but the conversations were mostly shallow. Neither of them could bear to talk about anything other than the weather or TV shows. Even work stories were glaring with the absence of him. So Amy steered clear of the obvious.

Amy was getting a fresh stash of her latest craving, Pringles. Her basket was loaded up with so many packages that she didn’t see the person in front of her and ran into her full force.

Amy scrambled to apologize for her clumsiness when she made eye contact with Karen. She froze, and made sure her tummy was covered with the basket of Pringles, but Karen hadn’t seemed to notice. 

A warm smile reached the older woman’s eyes and she greeted Amy like an old friend. 

“Amy! How are you, my dear? Holding up?” she asked sympathetically. She herself was obviously worried sick as well. She looked older and worry seemed to be etched on her face.

Amy nodded very rigidly and panic spread. There was no way this was ending without Karen finding out, she knew.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m doing a bit better myself. What are you here getting?” she asked innocently. Her eyes roamed to the basket, seeing the comical amount of Pringles and her eyes eventually stuttered and stopped over her obviously large stomach. Her smile fell slowly and realization crept onto her face. Eyebrows up, she looked at Amy so sympathetically. 

“Oh, my dear. Oh, sweetie,” she said, all the while putting their baskets on the ground and enveloping her into a hug. 

“He doesn’t know. I couldn’t do that to him. I can’t make him feel like—“ she whispered, stopping short. Karen was rubbing soft circles into her back while they hugged. Even though Amy has kept it from her, Karen still dropped everything (literally) to be there for Amy and her future grandchild. Amy felt so loved in this moment, she knew it would be okay someday. 

“Like his father. I know, dear. I know. It may feel impossible, hard, but you’re doing the right thing. It would only hurt him.”

“I’m so scared, Karen. He has to find out one way or another. He’s gonna hate me for keeping this from him.”

“No, no, no, sweetie. He could never hate you. It was just... bad timing. Any outcome would have been unpleasant.”

After that, Amy made an effort to see Karen at least once a week. She always brought Pringles, for shits and giggles, but most importantly, they learned to not shy away from the pain. The pain was important. It bonded them and allowed them to grow. They told countless stories about Jake, and a few times Jake happened to call while she was there. Both of them cried the first time it happened; they hadn’t heard each other’s voices in months. Amy let them talk for as long as possible, but eventually, Jake had to go quite abruptly. 

Karen and Amy both understood that telling Jake, either by her showing up one day with a baby girl or him seeing her as big as a tank, would be difficult, but Karen decided she would be with her every step of the way.

-

Over the course of the next few weeks, Amy managed to juggle daily phone calls with Jake without revealing anything. The only close call was when Hitchcock very loudly asked to feel her belly, but that was so on-brand for him that Jake didn’t ask any questions. 

Amy worked tirelessly on the Hawkins case. Every waking minute she had was spent poring over the case files and intel that her CIs gave her. According to one of them, Hawkins was set to move the stolen diamonds in 48 hours.

Her brain was tired, she was tired, and she was three days away from her due date. She had to run to the bathroom at least twice every hour, and her waddle was extreme.

Just as she was losing focus on the file in front of her, something caught her eye. A tiny, tiny glint in the food the pigs were being force-fed. Holy shit.

After a quick fact check, she found that her suspicions had been correct.

“In the pigs! They’re moving the diamonds in the pigs!” Amy shouted to the whole precinct. 

After explaining her findings to Holt, he nodded curtly at her before turning to the bullpen and shouting, “Everyone in tactical gear now! We leave in 5!”

Amy was forced to stay behind, the agonizing wait making her panic. Gina stayed with her and kept her sane during the long hours in limbo.

Eventually, the squad came back with Matthew Langdon in tow and got a signed confession within 20 minutes. An arrest warrant for Hawkins and her task force came through shortly after, and they had a confession out of her within the hour. The situation was absolutely hectic, a total organized mess, and Amy was living. With every yell across the bullpen, every signature on paperwork, Jake came that much closer to coming home.

Boyle and Captain Holt had left for South Carolina as soon as Langdon confessed to be there immediately on Jake’s release with a fresh set of clothes and toiletries. Amy could not have more grateful for them for bringing home her baby daddy.

Gina went to get Rosa, since she was nearby in a Jersey prison.

Amy got to make the calls. Surrounded by (what was left of) her found family, she picked up the phone and dialed Jericho prison.

“This is Detective Amy Santiago, 263, NYPD. I have the paperwork for the immediate release of Jacob Peralta, prisoner number 98762. The form is being faxed over as we speak. Captain Raymond Holt and Detective Charles Boyle will be there shortly to pick him up.”

She followed the same procedure with Rosa’s call. 

In the midst of the chaos, Amy got a text from Holt reading, “We are boarding the plane now. We take off in 13 minutes. We will arrive at the precinct in 2 hours and 24 minutes.”

Amy laid back in her chair and sighed contentedly. Two hours until she got to see Jake. Only two hours.

Shit.

Two hours until Jake saw her. Two hours until Jake saw her in her full 39-week-pregnant glory. All that she was waiting for, his reaction and anger, she would see in only two hours. She could do it. She could. She was Amy fuckin’ Santiago, for christ’s sake, she could hold it together until then. 

Or maybe not, she thought, as she looked down at the watery stain between her legs.

Shit.

Quickly, she shot a text to Holt reading, “Change of plans. Don’t come to precinct. Go straight to Brooklyn Methodist. Baby’s coming.”

“Terry?” Amy squeaked timidly.

The Sergeant barely looked up from his desk. “What’s up, Santiago?”

“Can you carry me to my car?”

Terry finally looked up and squinted at her. “Why do you need to get to your —shit, Amy, I’ll do you one better,” he changed tone and his eyes widened as he noticed the puddling fluid at her feet and on her pants. He picked up his phone and called an ambulance. 

Then the contractions started. Breathing shallowly like she learned in an online video, Amy screwed up her face and whimpered in pain. They were worse than she anticipated.

“It’s happening, Terry," she said weakly, through contraction. "It's happening and Jake isn't here." She began crying, partly due to the fact that it was so painful, but mostly because she had been so close to getting him here before the birth and it was all for nothing.

Terry looked at her evenly and said calmly while holding her hand, "Amy, listen. Jake will be here in two hours. I know you know that the average time between water breaking and delivery is much longer than that. You have time, and you've got to stop spiralling, it's bad for the baby."

Amy shook her head. "My mom had all her kids within three hours of her water breaking, and her first was the fastest. I just hope I'm not the same." Another contraction ripped through her. "You know, on second thought, I wouldn't mind it,” she groaned.

The paramedics burst through the door and gently lifted Amy onto a stretcher, hooking her up to check her vitals at the same time as they put her in the elevator, down to the first floor, and into the vehicle.

-

As soon as Holt, Boyle, and Jake landed in New York, Holt checked his phone and gasped slightly. He jumped up and pulled the three of the up with him, before busting out his badge and yelling, "NYPD, MAKE WAY IMMEDIATELY!"

They barely had time to grab their luggage before Holt was tugging them along through the airport and into the car. Holt flipped on his lights and shot through traffic, leaving no room for conversation. Still, though, Jake attempted.

"Damn, six months in prison almost completely isolated. What did I miss?"

To that, no one responded.

"Ookay, well, why are we rushing to the precint?"

"Change of plans. We are going to Brooklyn Methodist immediately," Holt responded curtly, worrying Jake. Why were they in such a hurry to get to the hospital? Someone must have been hurt, or there was at least something wrong. From on perilous situation into another.

The drive from the airport to the hospital seemed much too short, and before Jake knew it, he was being pulled into the lobby.

"Mr. Peralta? Your wife is in room 206. You'd better hurry if you want to make it."

Make it? Jake thought. Oh, god, oh no, she couldn't die, especially not right now. He had just gotten out of prison and was about to see her for the first time, not the last time. Panic set in easily, and Jake set off in a run.

As he rounded the corner into the room, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in front of him. There lay Amy, the beautiful love of his life, screaming blue murder through the pain, legs in stirrups, giving birth.

No, Jake thought. No. 

All his thoughts came crashing down on him. How could he leave when she most needed him? Every time they spoke on the phone, every time they saw each other in person... she was carrying his baby. And he abandoned her.

He stood still in the doorway, frozen in place. 

-

Amy was screaming and muscling her way through another blinding contraction when she heard the skidding of sneakered feet run into the room and freeze. 

Jake, some back part of her brain thought.

She made it through the worst contraction she had yet and opened her eyes to see her boyfriend standing frozen in front of her with the most heartbreaking look on his face.

Jake stood there, eyes wide looking straight at her with a look in his eyes of total despair. Unshed tears gleamed in his eyes and he couldn’t seem to form a sentence.

“Oh my god,” she heard him mutter softly.

“Jake,” she choked out with a smile.

“Dad?” the doctor said to him, hurrying between helping Amy and setting up the delivery station. “Mom needs you over here.”

That seemed to snap Jake out of it. His girlfriend and baby needed him. Dad. He was going to be a dad in what looked like less than an hour and he just found out. Holy shit. Dad. He absentmindedly floated to her side, taking hold of her hand just as another contraction came barreling through. Amy screwed up her face in concentration and pain and squeezed the life out of Jake’s hand while he peppered her face with kisses, not entirely believing he was back with her again. Muttering encouragements and sweet nothings into her ear, he grounded himself in the moment in the ever-familiar smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, and the incessant beeping of her heart monitor.

“Okay, Amy, we’re gonna need you to start pushing in a few minutes, can you do that?” to which Amy nodded vigorously. Jake smiled slightly and prepared for bone damage to his hand.

Amy took sips of water from a water bottle next to the bed and leaned over to Jake, grabbing his collar and pulling him in for a hard kiss before she had to start pushing. She pressed her sweaty forehead against his and whispered, “You’re here. You made it.”

Jake ran his hands through her hair. “Always. I’m always here.”

Her eyes met his with such sorrow it broke Jake’s heart. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m so sorry. I found out right after you got arrested, and I was waiting to tell you until after the trial, but...” she trailed off.

Jake shook his head and replied, “No, no, no. You don’t get to be sorry. You did what you thought was right. It would have killed me, Ames. And you knew that. But right now, let’s focus on getting this baby here.”

The relief on Amy’s face was so apparent, it hurt Jake badly that she was harboring these secrets and feelings for so long. “It’s a girl,” she said, eyes shining with a big smile.

Jake’s heart swelled and, for what seemed the millionth time that day, tears leaked out of his eyes. He laughed with a big smile. God, he had the best girlfriend. “A girl? For real? I’m having a baby girl?”

Any smiled sweetly up at him and nodded.

He pressed a final kiss to her forehead as the doctor said, “Alright, Amy, here we go, push in 3... 2... 1...”

After thirty minutes of fruitless pushing, Amy, drenched in sweat, looked up at Jake with a helpless look in her eyes. “Jake, I can’t, I can’t do it, it hurts so bad,” she moaned. 

“Come on, babe, you can do it, I know you can. You’re the smartest, strongest woman I know, and if anyone can do this, it’s you. I love you. So much,” Jake spoke in her ear. “Now come on, babe, push!”

1, 2, 3 pushes and Amy fell back onto the bed, gasping at the air with relief, sweat and tears falling from her face. At the same time, a small but somehow ear splitting cry came from the foot of the bed. Their baby girl was here.

”Can I get a bag of ice?” Jake called out to the hectic room, shaking out his very bruised hand. Any let out a breathy, relieved laugh.

Later, Jake and Amy sat huddled on the bed staring adoringly at their new baby girl.

“She has your eyes, Jake. And your hair,” Amy smiled at her daughter.

“And your nose and mouth. Thankfully,” Jake laughed, never breaking eye contact with the baby.

Amy tore her gaze away from the bundle of joy in her arms to her very-there boyfriend. 

“I missed you, babe. So much. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ames. After this, it’s you and me, all the way.”

And so they sat, the three of them in the bed in a picture-perfect reunion.

**Author's Note:**

> i thrive off of feedback!! comments and kudos are appreciated ;-)
> 
> find me on tumblr @fellintotartarus !


End file.
